You're Not a Horse, Harry!

Number 19

Number 19

The next day, Harry felt better, definitely like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. His mother was actively searching for a way to destroy Voldemort and while a part of Harry was itching to involve himself in that search, another part, perhaps a larger part, was happy to let his mother, who knew more about magic than Harry could ever even imagine, take charge of that operation.

Harry was still suffering from a slight jetlag, though, so in the morning he stayed in their quarters, fooling around a little with the magic Loki had been teaching him and chatting with Jarvis. After a simple lunch of a turkey sandwich, Harry took a nap in his room, since his body was suddenly exhausted as though it was the middle of the night. Harry just loved time differences, really.

It was already near the end of the afternoon when Harry woke up. Rubbing a hand over his face and blinking rapidly, Harry strolled into their living room, only to realize at the last second he wasn’t alone.

Tony stood leaning against the opposite wall. Loki stood in front of Tony, no, smashed against Tony, with his mouth on Tony’s while his hand was lost somewhere in the front of Tony’s opened trousers. There were loud smacking noises as they snogged as if their lives depended on it, Loki’s other hand wound in Tony’s hair and Tony holding onto Loki’s leather jacket with tight fingers.

Harry stared, because he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. He’d never seen this before. One time, he’d walked in on Fred and Angelina snogging while leaning against the wall in the Quidditch dressing room after a match, when Harry had forgotten his gloves and gone back for them. But that had been different, because that had been a teenage boy and girl.

These were two men. One of which was Harry’s mother. Who had been, at one point, in a relationship with his brother when they’d made Harry. And who was now snogging Tony Stark in their living room while doing things in Tony Stark’s trousers.

Harry stared for a moment longer.

“Sir,” Jarvis eventually said, drawing Tony’s attention to the fact that they were not alone in the living room.

“Oh, hey, kid,” Tony said, while Loki quickly pulled away from him to look over his shoulder at Harry in surprise. “Sorry about that.”

“Er…” Harry blinked a few times, his cheeks slowly warming up until they felt like they were on fire, and then he fled their rooms entirely, because he had no clue what to say or how to act around two adults he’d just caught doing adult things.

Barefooted, and wearing rumpled sweatpants and a t-shirt, Harry wandered around the tower, hoping to find someone who had answers for him, because Harry was feeling very confused. Part of him hoped to find Thor, but another part of him wasn’t sure if his father even knew his mother did adult things with Tony, and would he be angry if he found out? Harry didn’t want his father and mother to fight because of something he’d said.

Harry checked the range to see if Clint was there, but it was empty. He checked the communal living room, but no one was there, either. Finally he made his way to the training rooms, where he found Natasha kicking the shit out of a punching bag.

Harry shuffled inside, not sure if she was the right person to talk to or not, but he felt that he had to talk to someone because his head was about to explode because of what he’d seen, or so it felt.